


On the Edge

by ArianneMaya



Series: Pushing His Limits [2]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: BDSM, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianneMaya/pseuds/ArianneMaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Next time, pretty, we’ll make you bleed for us.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to @MyPrivateAffair for prereading.  
> And I'm blaming this on her because I would never have written this if it wasn't for the fact that she stuck the idea into my head.  
> So, yeah, this? Entirely her fault.

_Next time, pretty, we’ll make you bleed for us._

It’s not something the three of them have done, ever. It wasn’t even on Tommy’s radar. It probably still wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for the way Adam had teased him with the idea while he was right on the edge. It almost sounded like a challenge, but Tommy was expecting the idea to fade to the back of his mind as his high wore off.

Instead, he finds himself coming back to it, again and again. It’s never been something that he wanted because it scared him so damn much. If he’s honest, he has to admit that it still scares him. But the more he thinks about it, the more it turns into the kind of fear that could make this so very fucking good.

Slowly, it gets to the point where he can’t stop thinking about it, going as far as wondering how they could make it happen.

So much so that one evening, while they’re relaxing with Tommy lying on the couch and his head in Brian’s lap, Brian asks, “So, you gonna tell us what the hell is going on in your head?”

It takes Tommy by surprise. He’d honestly believed that he could keep his internal turmoil to himself but he’d forgotten how good they both are at guessing him.

Still, he says, “It’s nothing.”

“Sure, it’s nothing,” Adam repeats as he joins them in the living room. A small tap on Tommy’s legs makes him move them out of the way so Adam can sit too. “And that’s why you have no focus, right?”

“I didn’t think I was doing that badly.”

“Just bad enough that we noticed it.” Brian trails a finger on Tommy’s forehead. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing,” Tommy says again. At their incredulous looks, he adds, “Just something Adam said last time you used the cane on me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Tommy,” Adam says, tracing soft circles around Tommy’s ankle. “I always say a lot of stuff when we’re playing.”

Before he can second-guess himself, Tommy replies, “About making me bleed.”

There’s a long silence as they both stare at him. Adam’s hand stops moving. “You do know I was just saying that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He’s used to it by now and knows that it’s Adam’s own brand of dirty talking, hot images that don’t have to mean anything. Especially in this case, since Adam would never suggest something that goes so far over Tommy’s limits when he’s that close to the edge and mean it. “But the idea’s stuck in my head anyway.”

When the only answer he gets is silence, Tommy sighs. “I was expecting a better reaction.”

“If you want to have this conversation, trying to get a rise out of us really isn’t the way to go.” The warning is clear in Brian’s voice. He waits until Tommy nods in acknowledgement and mouths a small _sorry_ before he continues, “You took us by surprise, Tommy. We both know it’s not something you ever wanted.”

__“__ What if I do now?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Do you really?” Adam asks. “Or is it just the idea that turns you on?”

He takes the time to think about it. He knows by now that there can be a big difference between something that’s just a nice fantasy and the things he actually wants to do. “It’s not just curiosity. I’ve been thinking about, like, possibilities.”

“What were you thinking of?”

No matter how tempting the idea is, he still has a hard time to get the words out. He takes a deep breath and looks at Brian before he answers, “Your knives.”

He can almost feel the moment when they focus all their attention on him. Yet Adam seems a little hesitant when he asks, “Are you sure you want it?”

“Don’t you?”

He feels more than he hears Brian’s sigh. “It has nothing to do with that, Tommy. We just don’t want you doing something that goes so far over your own limits for us.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Well, then, answer the question,” Adam says. “Because otherwise, it feels a lot like you’re only interested because you know we are. Do you really want it?”

Tommy hesitates. It’s true that he probably wouldn’t even have thought about it if it wasn’t for the fact that he knows they’ve both done this before and that it’s something they’re interested in. But he’s also sure that he wouldn’t be that interested into something that still scares him so much if it was just because he knows they’re into it.

Still, he admits, “I’m not sure yet. But I’m obsessing about it so much, it’s ridiculous.”

“Figure it out first,” Brian says. “And if you’re sure you really want it—”

“And you’re not doing it for us—”

“We’ll see.”

Slowly, Tommy nods. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

***

They don’t talk about it again, but the idea stays in Tommy’s head anyway. It’s as if that first conversation was enough to turn an uncertain, hot image into a real possibility. While it still scares him, it’s definitely not to the point of stopping him. Not with them. Not anymore.

Once he’s made up his mind, he waits for the right moment to bring up the topic again. It never seems to happen, though. Until one evening, once they’re done with dinner and the dishes have been washed and put away. Instead of telling him what they have in mind, Adam says, “Tonight’s up to you, Tommy.”

It takes him by surprise. The words seem to catch in his throat until Brian adds, “Go ahead. Tell us what you want.”

Without thinking, he blurts out, “Make me bleed. Please.”

Silence is his only answer. But just from Adam’s smile, from the calculating way Brian’s now looking at him, Tommy knows that they’ve both thought about it and that he won’t have to work too hard to convince them.

“You sure?” Brian asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure. This is what I want.” Again he asks, begs, “Make me bleed. _Please_.”

He’s almost expecting to have that first conversation all over again. Instead, he releases a breath he had no idea he was holding in when Adam says, “All right, pretty. Let’s get you settled.”

***

“Hands behind your back.”

Tommy lets his head drop, his eyes close as he feels the rope that Adam wraps around his wrists. Once Adam’s done, Tommy breathes a little easier when he realizes that he can barely move his hands. The rope becomes a tether anchoring him into his body, same as the arm that Adam rests around Tommy’s shoulders as he says, “Lean back against me,” or the rope around his ankles, keeping his leg spread to make space for Brian.

“You good, pretty?”

Tommy blinks his eyes open. “Yes, Sir. I’m good.”

The light caress of Brian’s fingers on his inner thigh makes his shiver. “Scared?”

“More nervous than scared.”

It seems to be enough for them, because Brian says, “Good. Give us your words.”

Tommy does then Adam moves his arm to grab Tommy’s chin and make him turn his head. “If you need a break or if you need to stop for whatever reason, you let us know. If you don’t and you freak on us later, I’m gonna tan your ass. Clear?”

The obligation to look out for himself gives Tommy another little push in the right direction. “Yes, Sir. I will. I promise.”

Brian rests a hand on Tommy’s chest, trapping the knife, still in its sheath, between his own palm and Tommy’s skin. “Take a deep breath, baby. I’m not doing anything until you relax.”

Instead, Tommy’s breath catches in his throat. “Easier said than done.”

“Follow my rhythm. Breathe.” Adam’s voice in Tommy’s ear, soft but firm. “In. And out.”

He closes his eyes and focuses on Adam’s presence at his back. With every breath, some of the tension seeps out of Tommy. He’s still nervous, but he wants this enough that the anticipation is driving him crazy. Just the idea has him well on his way to full hardness.

“Open your eyes.”

The peace he’s found shatters into pieces and Tommy tenses again, desire and anticipation and need rolling through him and blurring together at the sight of Brian taking the knife out of its sheath.

“Shh.” Adam’s voice is no more than a whisper in Tommy’s ear. “You can take it. I know you can.”

Tommy gives the smallest nod. He’s still tense all over, but the fear, the idea of what they could do only seems to make his desire burn brighter.

“Keep your eyes open,” Adam reminds him.

The words make Tommy shudder. He doesn’t want to hide from this, not exactly, but keeping his eyes open means he has to face the fear head on. And he knows it would be easier if he didn’t have to watch.

Somehow, though, the last thing he needs is for them to go easy on him, and they seem to perfectly understand that.

“You ready, baby?”

Brian hasn’t moved yet. Tommy takes another deep breath and waits until his frightened heartbeat slows down to a more normal rhythm.

“Yes, Sir. I’m ready.”

“Let go, pretty. We’ve got you.”

Tommy goes lax against Adam’s chest. His anxiousness, his fear won’t fade away that fast, but he’s aware that if he wants this to happen, he has to meet them half-way. And he wants it so fucking bad, he can practically taste how good it’ll be.

He releases a breath he had no idea he was holding in, losing himself in the soothing caresses of their hands all over him, in the firm pressure of Adam’s arm around him, anchoring him into his body.

His fear fades to the back of his mind as they take possession of his whole world, his whole being with whispered _perfect little slut_ and _always so pretty for us_ and, again, _give it up to us, we’ve got you._

Tommy couldn’t even say how long they stay like this. Nothing exists but them bringing him down with their words and their touches as if they had all the time in the world, waiting and waiting and waiting until he finally settles, soft and mellow and content. Until the trailing touch of one finger tracing patterns on his skin feels like a promise instead of a threat, the perfect hint of what’s next.

He feels the tip of the knife, a barely there touch against his chest as Brian ask, “Bleed for us?”

Tommy has to swallow once, twice, before he finds his voice. “Yes, Sir. Please.”

“Stay still, pretty.”

At first Tommy thinks that Adam’s only reminding him because he doesn’t want him to try to move away from the knife and harm himself in the process. And then, Tommy feels the knife trailing over his skin. His breath catches in his throat because it’s so, so different from what he was expecting.

It doesn’t hurt. It’s barely a scratch, and sometimes not even that, but the idea that it could be so much more than that, going round and round in Tommy’s head, gives this an intensity that makes him light-headed.

Somehow, though, it doesn’t scare him anymore. Between the assured grip Brian has on the knife and the words Adam keeps whispering in his ear, it’s as if his fears don’t have a hold on him anymore, because he knows that they’re right here with him, and that they would never let anything bad happen to him if they can prevent it.

This, right here, feels like they hold his very life in their hand. And nothing, fucking _nothing_ has ever felt so right.

So much so that, when the knife follows the line of his collarbone, Tommy lets his head drop on Adam’s shoulder, exposing his throat. He knows, then, that the warning was to prevent him not from inching away from the blade, but from pushing into the sensation.

The tip of the knife seems to have a direct line to his dick, hard and aching a little more every time the blade trails across his skin.

He feels patterns that he can’t recognize, sometimes barely grazing his skin, sometimes scratching and leaving welts, spiraling around his nipples, sliding down his chest.

Then he feels the flat of the blade on the skin at the junction of his leg and groin. The world goes wide open in front of him as warm brown eyes catch his, with the hint of a teasing smile. The knife follows the line of his inner thigh, moving closer and closer to his dick before inching away and tearing the first “ _please_ ” out of him.

Again and again he feels the same pattern, the knife almost but not quite slicing through his skin, until it takes all of his self-control not to move into that touch. Until he needs it so badly that words spill from his lips out of control, a mess of _please_ and _I need._ He couldn’t even say if he’s begging for more or less of everything. All he knows is that he’s riding the edge and there’s nothing he can do to free himself. He doesn’t even want to.

And then, when Tommy’s so far gone that all he can produce are wordless whimpers, when it feels like any and all touches just aren’t _enough_ , Brian asks again, “Bleed for us?”

There’s no way Tommy can hold in the, “Fuck, yes, Sir, please!” that comes to him on instinct. He doesn’t even think to try.

The same pattern again, on his stomach, up his chest, the touch of the knife getting firmer with every pass until it finally slices his skin, spilling his blood.

He barely hears Adam’s whisper of, “At your leisure, pretty.” The permission, along with Adam’s firm strokes around his dick, the feeling of the flat of the knife so close to his junk, right where it could do so much damage, and the tiny, tiny hint of blood in Brian’s kiss, makes Tommy shatter and fall into the abyss.

He floats away, almost unaware of the moment when they release him, of the feeling of a cool washcloth cleaning the blood away from his body, of the soft blanket they wrap him in before he starts shivering.

Many, many minutes later, when he blinks his eyes open and even the soft light in the playroom is a little too much for him, Adam asks, gently, “Bed time?”

All it does is make Tommy clings to them like he’s afraid that they’ll both fade away if he lets them go, and he lets out a small, needy, “Not yet.”

“Okay.” Brian busses a kiss against Tommy’s hair. “We will stay here as long as you need.”

Some of the tension seeps out of Tommy at the knowledge that they’re not going anywhere, that they are willing, once again, to be whatever he needs.

He curls into their embrace and closes his eyes again. He only means to stay here a little while longer, to take the strength they always know how to give him before moving to the bedroom.

However, between one breath and the next, he falls asleep.

The next morning, as soon as Tommy stirs, he hears a, “You awake yet, pretty?”

“Almost.” He blinks, surprised when he realizes that they must have moved him to their bed at some point last night, but he doesn’t remember it, at all. He rolls onto his back and finds them both on their side, looking at him.

He pushes his arms over his head and stretches full-length. He’s sore and happy and so, so damn good.

“How you feeling?” Brian asks, a hand finding Tommy’s hair in a gentle caress.

“Good.” A lazy grin spreads on his face as he elaborates, “Good enough that I might be tempted to do it all over again.”

He knows, just from the looks on their faces, that they needed the reassurance just as much as he needs to have them both close to him right now.

“We’ll remember that,” Adam promises.

They both inch closer and Tommy finds himself caught between, the hard pressure of both their dicks against him reminding him, “You didn’t… Last night…” His mouth still doesn’t seem to have quite caught up with his thoughts.

But they get it, somehow, and Brian shrugs. “Last night was about you.”

Tommy frowns at that. As good as it feels in the moment itself, he’s never been that okay with everything being all about him.

It has to show on his face, because Adam asks, “You want to help us with that, pretty?”

Just like that, Tommy’s world rights itself again. “Yes, Sir. _Please_.”


End file.
